Those Of The Black Snow
by Alicorn
Summary: When another Festival of the Bells comes to Fraggle Rock, Boober is suddenly forced face to face with his past.../On hold/
1. Christmas

Author's Note:

This whole idea came about from thinking too much about something someone, who I am very grateful to, said about Boober not being like other fraggles, and why he became the Boober we all know and love today. I guess you could call this a sort of background story of Boober, or a Christmas story, or a Festival of The Bells story, or a story story. Again, it is more that a bit depressing and sad, but maybe then, that is part of the stories heart in itself. This is set many years before Song Of A Midnight Place, not long after the end of the series...

**Those Of The Black Snow**

By Alicorn (aka Redsonga aka Alicornmoon )

**Prologue**

The room that glowed with the soft light tiny bulbs all colors of the rainbow in the novelty shape of chill peppers was very welcoming as dark unoccupied rooms went.

It smelled of sawdust and grease, and tasted of that new unmistakable dusty cosiness of a well used workspace.

It had the look of a freshly redesigned home, with a work-breach and rocking chair at one end, and a worn dog bed at the other, overflowing with all the unashamed trappings and toys of a very happy spoiled pet.

The only flaw in this room, in fact, was a gapping hole in a side wall. The hole was large and ragged around the edges, looking as if it had always been there, made by some family of dust-bowl age oversized rats bent on termite like destruction.

If one looked close enough at it to, they might even see a flash of color and the notes of a faint melody.

But this hole if anyone asked, (and they were not in the habit of taking any time out of their busy lives for singing holes in walls) was only a few months old.

Even more oddly, the hole happened to have what seemed to be a homemade kindergarten style cubby hole consulted right against the corner next to it.

But then, the owner of this particular room was known to be a little particular himself…

"I can't believe it Sprocket, of all the crazy mad houses!"

The chill pepper lights jingled slightly on their stings at the steer force of the door being flung open in rage. The sound of a dog's tried whimper carried in on the cold night air, followed quickly by the thud of wood on flooring.

"You'd think half of Arizona had put off Christmas shopping until the last week…!"

The older man, wearing an odd mix of a long sleeved dress shirt and flip-flops with shorts bustled into the doorway in a fluster, his grey hair tossed and his glasses askew as if he had just been in a small scale war.

An old gray and white sheepdog scampered at a well practiced pace between the man's legs, and sat down at a safe distance.

"And would you look at this tree? Just look at it!" Doc exclaimed, pounding the offending tree base on the workshop floor with all the dramatic flare of putting a flag down to clam a mountain.

The tree was barely four feet tall, not counting a broken top limb, with long finger-like branches spaced few and far between, covered with pale green needles that were interrupted every half foot or so with patches of yellowish brown.

"Downright puny, isn't it?"

Sprocket barked in agreement, reaching out to sniff the tree tentivly and recoiling with a yelp as his slight movement was met with a shower of falling pine needles atop his nose. He gave it a last huff of disapproval, and turned to dig in a bag of odds and ends the man had just set down from his other arm as he continued to rant.

"Why, back home we use to use trees this size for kindling..."

In the background the dogs tail wagged happily as he sent a shower of tinsel and blightly colored plastic globes up in the air and just a quickly stopped, his tail at sharp attention.

" …not highway robbery at 50 a pop…"

Sprocket paced up to his owner's legs at a proud skip holding something in his mouth, and tugged at the nearest neon green hem of Doc's shorts.

"What is it _now_ Sprocket?" Doc grumbled, in the process of picking up a plastic globe from the floor and trying to hang it, without much success, on the small tree.

"Row-ro!" The sheepdog replied, in a growl that almost sounded human, letting the man take piece of paper from between his teeth.

"Oh, another postcard for Gobo?" Doc took a passing glance at the picture on it's side, the shape of what looked like a grand old castle on a cliffside, before handing it back in the direction of his dog.

"Germany this time.. certainly does get around..Just put it other there in his mailbox …"

Sprocket shook his head and barked, pushing it back to the old inventor with a hopeful whimper.

"Hm? Oh you want me to read it to you?" Doc eyed the hole in the wall for a moment before using the postcards side to block a whisper.

"Why Sprocky, don't you know it's rude to read other people's mail?"

He happened to glance at the words on the card just then, eyes wide as he reached for his reading glasses.

"Say..that's _my_ name there, isn't it?"

Sprocket wagged his tail and panted with a smug smile, leaning in with the same curious expression as his master, as he began to read.

_Dear Nephew Gobo,_

_Once again it is the season of the Wish Granting Creature and Food Cooking In Front of an Open Fire here in Outer Space._

_The other day, I discovered that in some parts of this world the Wish Granting Creature will provide you with this cooked food himself if you are silly enough to leave your shoes out unsupervised overnight._

_Let this be a lesson to you Gobo: Always look before you step.. into… shoes. The results may not be as tasty for your feet. _

_Ah hum, however and furthermore, I miss you all more than ever in this season, and wish you could share in the crumbs of my successes. May your bells ring loudly!_

_P.S._

_Please thank Jerome for informing me of the true use for "money". While it makes sense in a silly way, I still think it benefits everyone in this world a bit more in fountains._

_Love, Your Uncle Traveling Matt_

"Hm, well, to each his own I guess." Doc remarked with a shrug, slipping the postcard into the cubby by the hole as Sprocket began to scoop up the many Christmas globes on the floor.

"Funny thing Sprocket, how the holidays always make us think of family far away.." The inventor mused, easing down into is favorite rocking chair in front of the sickly Christmas tree.

His dog pawed away, rearranging a blanket of cotton at the tree's base and slowly, ever so slowly, placing a globe with his teeth near it's top.

The tree bowed with a loud creaking sound to the left under the weight of the single piece of plastic, sprinkling a new shower of dead pine-needles on Sprocket's nose.

"I wonder what Ms. Ardath is doing Sprocky?" Doc said, gazing at the single shiny red globe with eyes that looked to be hundreds of miles away somewhere in his mind.

"Do you think she and Marigold even think of us anymore..?"

Sprocket let out a depressed whimper as he lay down in his bed, staring at the same bulb from below his shaggy eyebrows.


	2. Knackengoocans

Meanwhile, within the hole in the wall, down tunnels that twisted and turned and smelled of roots crawling with trapdoor spiders...

Where small singing fuzzy moles that looked like miniature elephants huddled ,shivering, around the large underground pond that was now covered in ice...

And down two flights of craved out stairways, things were bustling in Fraggle Rock for a group of fraggles.

This would not have been anything out of the ordinary for the small furry creatures that loved to run and play and swim more than anything in the universe, if it wasn't for the fact that it was the middle of winter and the room where all the fuss happened to be coming from was the kitchen, not the ice skating path.

Boober took a deep breath, readying himself as his unseen gaze under his bright feather like red hair fixed itself on some point before him.

"Oven mitts." He said in a flat serious voice of an army commander.

"Oven mitts!" Gobo replied, as he slipped the one yellow radish print oven mitt onto one of Boober's hands, and Wembley mirrored him on the other side of their friend.

"Mask."

"Mask!" Wembley replied cheerfully, slipping what like a beekeepers hood made out of fine hand-woven mesh over Boober's head.

"Stick!" Boober added lastly, reaching out his oven mitted hands.

"Stick..." Gobo replied with a reluctant tone as he slowly handed over a worn looking hockey stick, polished with age, stopping halfway though "Are you sure this won't hurt Susabell?"

"Gobo I swear your stick will be fine! It's for the greater good..and it's non-acidic." Boober added .

" Really? Well, I guess, when you put it that way..." Gobo mumbled handing other his beloved possession.

"Your hockey stick is simply the only thing long enough for this noble endeavor..."

Boober tapped the side of the giant bowl in front of the three with a nod.

It was easily three fraggles wide and two fraggles deep, and was filled to the brim with a thick mixture the color of cinnamon, that now and then let out a menacing bubble.

"But why's your in..dev..er have to be in such a big bowl anyway?" Wembley asked, already on his tiptoes and halfway reaching out a finger toward the dough before Boober poked his hand away mid-taste test.

"Yeah Boober, what's with all the cooking in bulk eh? " Gobo tipped his head to the side, looking a bit distracted. "If you hadn't asked us to help you make so much I could have been getting Uncle Matt's..."

Boober lowered down the front mesh of the mask and twisted the edges of his mitts as he gripped the stick, with a rare glint of determination showing in the firmly truned down edge of his mouth.

"Guys, sometimes a fraggle has to do what a fraggle has to do, now grab a leg and stir!"

Moments later the bright happy, if a bit cold sounding vioce of Red fraggle could be heard, taking the stars two at a time ahead of her body.

"Hey Gobo, the northern sweetwater lake froze over last night! You wanta see my double twist..." Red, dressed head to toe in shaves , her favorite hat, and a shiny pair of red ice skates, came to a shocked skidding stop. "What in the wide space are you three doing?"

Both Gobo and Wembley now stood on top of a wide, shaky looking step ladder, propped up against the side of bowl, each tightly griping the leg of the much smaller Boober and whipping him slowly from side to side as he mixed the concoction in brisk circles with the hockey stick, flinging spatters of it upward like gooey rain.

"I'm making Knackengoocans." Boober yelled down simply.

"Knaken whatas ?" Red asked, starting to skate in lazy loops around the outter rim of the cooking cave.

"Darned if we know." Gobo interjected with shrug, as they both set Boober back down on the ladder with a groan and sat, exhausted.

"Yeah, one moment, we've just walking along on the way to get our stakes and then _**bam**_! Boober grabs us and says he'll give us peppermint doozer stick twists..."

Wembley explained, licking a tick red stick he suddenly produced from somewhere in the depths of his banana tree shirt.

"It _is_ real good though..."

"I know can't be _real_ good for sure," Red said with a self righteous nod, skating to the left. " ...whatever Boober's got in that bowl..."

"...Even if it is so big." Red continued, skating back to the right as she leaned part of her weight on her tail. "Sheesh, you could make a Giant Slurp hot tub out of that thing!"

Boober followed the restlessly moivng form of Red from where he now sat on a ladder step and cut in with a sigh.

"Red, Red, Red, I have to make enough for everyone !"

Boober zipped off to a tucked away corner and came back with a huge difficult looking book in tow, opening it to a well worn place and sticking it under Red's nose. The sudden onslaught of written words sent the young fraggle falling backwards with a yelp as Boober began to rammble.

" It's the traditional northern rock antifreeze food. _First_, you stir it twenty times wearing yellow mittens, _then_ make them into shoes shapes, and stuff them with chokeberry jam canned on the 5th thursday of last sping, _while_ wearing them, and spinning in circles reciting the traditional Prayer of The Winter Goddess…."

"What makes you think we're going to do any of those crazy things?" Red remarked, rubbing her behind as she got up.

" Since when did you get so traditional anyway?"

"Yeah Boober, I don't remember you ever saying anything.." Gobo reahed out to help Red to her feet on the icey patch of floor. "… about something like this before …"

Wembley nodded in agreement. "..and we've known you practically forever!"

"Everyone, don't you remember what happened _last year_?"

Boober shouted, his voice growing more and emotional with each passing word.

"We were frozen solid for a whole _two mintues_ before Gobo rang the bell!"

The three other fraggles drew back from Boober's well known "ranting voice".

"Do you have any _idea_ what that does to a fraggle glandular system?"

"Wait, um..Boober…" Wembley began, still chewing on his peppermint doozer stick with a rare look of thoughtfulness on his face. "If we were all _really_ frozen how could you tell how long…?"

"..Not to mention the month needed to restore proper blood flow to the tail…" Boober concluded, not seeming to hear Wembley's question.

"It sounds like a bunch of huey to get us to eat another one of your half baked recipes if you ask me." Red said, playfully skating around the room and pulling at Gobo's stocking cap so leaned to one side as she went pass. " It'll probably kill us before it does any good."

"Yep, probably." Wembley agreeed, at the same time reaching out, slowly, carefully toward the overflowing batter on the side of the bowl with a finger.

"Oh, no no no." Boober said, rapping Wembley's hand yet again away from his materprice. "…they'll be fully baked and I can promise you…"

Boober rooted around in the oven and came back with a bubbling pot that brimmed with green luquid the texture of oatmeal.

**Fling all the criticism you want to, you'll find no rigor mortis in my stew.**

His friends sniffed it and fell over gagging.

**Though our tastebuds may not always see eye, I can tell you something:**

A hum grew up from the cupbaords as living samples of Boober's cakes, soufflés, and pies, started a 50's rock and rock chorus.

**My food won't make you die!**

A trayal of giant ants suddenly made their way across the kitchen courtar, all wearing hats and scarfs, and sang as they quickly started to carry the food away.

**(Won't make you die!)**

**Say's you!** Red remarked, aiming a snowball at one of the ants.

**(Won't make you die!)**

The snowball missed and landed in the stew, cousing a wave of it that splashed on Gobo, who overacted like he had been shot and fell to the floor with a gasp.

**Morris's allergic to cucumbers.**

Morris came by being carried on a stearer and holding a pickle, before Boober snatched it away.

**Henchy to beets.**

Henchy walked by chewing a beet and shrugged, seeming perfectly normal, as he turned his backside could be seen completely bald of fur.

**Yams give Tosh big fat feet!**

Tosh was carried by sitting on two of the giant ants as they carried her, waving her feet, each the size of a dinner plate.

**All this keen observation is why, I know, I know, I know you won't die!**

Boober poked a finger at Red's muzzle from other his thick book.

**On this you have my satisfaction guarantee, wherever you get your food poisoning, it won't be from me!**

**Because my my my, food won't make you--!"**

"Red?..." Boober's song came to a screeching ending mid- song as he reached an arm out to grab her sweater sleeve.

"Did you say it was cold enough to freeze over the northern lake out there..right _now_?"

"Yeah..why? Are you going to stop being a stick in the mud and ice skate this year?" Red asked.

Boober slowly put the giant cookbook that was nearly as big as him away in a chupbroad before speaking again, his voice low and measured.

"No..no…I like my mud just fine. I was only wondering…You know, maybe we should let this congeal for a while.."

He tapped the bowl and it bubbled as if in agreement.

"I..could use another frozen radish for texture…"

"I'll go with you, the tunnel is extra slipperly today!" Red laughed skating ahead.

Gobo shugged and started to trail after her.

"Ah well, I'm already late getting the mail anyway.. Say, where's Mokey?"

"Oh, she went up to see the Trash Heap, she'll want come to though…" Red shouted back at the three. "Better sing the thumping song extra loud today Wembley!"

"Who me? Really?" Wembley said, perking up.

"Susabell won't mind that much." Gobo agreed, carefully handing over the newly de-gooed hockey stick.

"Whoppie!" Wembley wooped, turning the handle up and beginning to beat it against the ceiling of the tunnel to a very slow, steady beat...


	3. Ice

* * *

Down a long tunnel where the wind from above whipped , the tiny kingdom of the gorg's castle and garden was frosted over, the deep grey clouds threatening an even heavier downpour of snow.

Jr. Gorg whined, kneeing, as he got a tighter grip on the radish top he had been pulling at for the last half hour, digging his toes into the crunchy rock solid ground.

Suddenly, the wretched green top of the radish came apart from it's bulb, sending the giant tumbling head over heels.

"Ooo, You've done it now you frozen radishes you! I'm gettn' my _club_ for this job!"

He fumed, retreating back into the castle.

"At least if I'm not thumpn' fraggles I can use it for _somethin_'…"

* * *

"Hey, let up already would ya?"

"Yah, have a heart!"

In a adjoining corner to the garden two mole rats where sitting around what looked like a small hill of hand knitted laundry in dismay, as a tall lilac colored fraggle, dressed in a blue hat and cheerful white sweater, talked quietly to herself, adding a new item from an invisible checklist to the mound with each passing word.

"Let's see now..one tarplain, four scarves, six blankets, and one extra cozy poncho!" She finished with a heave of bright blue fabric and gave a nod of satisfaction. "There!"

"_Cozy_ ain't the word." …whispered.

"_Sufficatiatin's_ more like it." Gunge agreed.

"There now!" Mokey said with a grin, patting the pile. "How do you feel Madam Heap?"

"How do you think she feels?" Philo said with a sniff, pulling on the edge of a blanket with his two sharp teeth. "You got her tied up tighter than doozer gift warpin'!"

Mokey put a hand to her mouth and leaned forward with interest at the grey and pink rats' overreacting.

"Marjory, can you hear me? Aw, _breathe_! Give us a _sign_!" Gunge yelled tapping on the side of the bundle.

"Oh dear..I was only trying to help." Mokey said quietly

"I remembered how much trouble my forgetting to cover her up caused _last_ year…"

"There's _cover'n_ and then there's _smothering_…" Philo sniffed with an annoyed sounding sneeze.

"Yeah, thanks but _no_ thanks for all yer…" Gunge began.

At the moment both rats caught sight of a small hole in the front of the frost proof armor that covered their seragent mother, who just happened to be giving them the dirtiest, most telling glare a trash heap was able to in her condition.

"Ah, what Gunge means is, we're _real_ grateful for yer help…'

Philo elbowed Gunge sharply.

"Oh yeah, _real_ grateful, couldn't be better!" Gunge said catching on quickly

"Oh good, I'm so glad! I really really tried to focus this time and make…Oh, there's a hole! I'll just have to go straight back home and get…"

"No!" Both shouted, sending Mokey falling with a yelp.

"Ah…what we mean to say is a little hole provides our beloved oracle with a certain important atmosphere in the mystic all frozen months." Gunge said in a more mellow tone.

"Yay, _air_." Philo whispered.

"Ooo.." Mokey nodded.

" 'N besides...Marjory wants you should... go and have fun with all your fraggle buddies."

Philo said quickly, pulling off the edge of a little white lie with a grin.

"Yay, live it up!" Gunge agreed.

"Well..if you're _sure_ she'll be okay…" Mokey said, glancing at the small uncovered spot.

"Sure we're sure! See?" Philo said with a fake smile.

Slowly, pitifully, one of the Trash Heaps fingers poked out of the side of her countless layers of blankets, wiggling up and down.

"The Trash Heap has motioned! Nah!" Both rats chorused.

"Okay then..stay warm and.." Mokey stopped, a small tremor and the sound of muffled voices coming from under her feet, braking that line of thought.

"Oh, that's the thumping song! Pardon me! Goodbye!"

"Stay warm she says, it must be hot enough to fry an egg inside that cocoon of her's…"

Philo said, looking at the many coverings in distaste, but starting to slowly and steadily edge closer to the warm fuzzy yarn weaves.

"Maybe so.. Marjory? We got any _eggs_ in there?" Gunge asked.

"Better yet, any that's turn'n into _eggnog_?" Philo added as they both began to edge their way into the gap between where the ground around the Trash Heap ended and the blankets began.

* * *

Mokey whipped around into the entry to Fraggle Rock just in time to run and catch her friends as they were going into the Radish tunnel.

Since the discovery of the new tunnel to Outer Space some months ago, and the learning of the true link fraggles and doozers shared with the radishes, there had been many new explorations of the rock by even the most everyday of fraggles.

One discovery, that had been made by a fraggle playing a spirited game of rock high, was a long unused tunnel that ran level with the doozer radish mine along one wall, and made a shortcut to the northern lake, which normally took an hour to get to otherwise.

The five fraggles sang in a line, three of them now wearing a large outfit that looked like a cross between a dancing lion and a dragon, as Mokey joined them under it to make up the tail.

**Have you heard the rhythm? Have you sang the song?**

**The ringing of the bells here, loud and true and strong!**

Boober walked ahead of them, not singing, as Wembley drummed Gobo's hockey stick on the top if the ceiling, making up the beat.

**The start of a great feast!**

**The strong and mighty flippers**

**Of the Weeba beast!**

**Weeba weba!**

**Boom boom boom!**

**The beast will be here soon.**

Boober winced at the loud yelling song in back of his head as he poked at each of the radishes hanging overhead in turn.

**Weeba weeba**

**Ding dong ding!**

**I wonder what the spring well bring? !**

**Weeba weeba,**

**Weebadedoo**

Boober wandered ahead, coming to the last giant radish and the beginning of the shore of the northern lake at the same time. He grumbled softly to himself and looked just about ready to tell her friends to pipe down when his gaze fell on something over the side of the bulb.

**May your bells ring loudly and proudly and true!**

**Weeba weeba... weeba?...**

The song was stopped short and replaced by the not so nice melody of each fraggle running into the one in front of them as Wembley suddenly stopped, taking the head of the Weeba beast off from over his head and pointing.

"Hey, look at Boober! I didn't know you could ice skate without skates!"

"You can't!" Red said, looking over Wembley.

"Well, can't or not, he's sure _doing_ it!" Gobo added. "And there's something else out there..I wonder what?"

Boober, for all his short frame and stick in the muddish habits, was making very good time as he rushed in long almost graceful slides across the frozen over sweetwater.

The water shone like a metallic hot pink mirror, reflecting Boober's green form as he kneed down to put the whatever it was' head in his lap.

Red, huffing and puffing in an effort to finally catch up came to a sliding stop before him, the blades of her skates spraying flakes of pink into the air.

"Boober ? ! What in the rock.. are you.. crazy?..how did you?..."

Red looked down then, her eyes widening at the darkened whatever-it-was.

"It's..a..fraggle!..Who?..."

"Her name is Bimsy..." Boober began, his voice an empty shadow of it's normal sound. "She's my..._sister_."


	4. Nix

The arrival of a new creature in the lower caves was always a big event in fraggle rock. It was better and happier however when this new creature happened to be a fraggle that promised to be a new playmate for everyone, even if they didn't know it themselves yet.

But this new fraggle was a bit different than all the rest. It was not her shaggy thick fur, such a light shade of sky blue it was nearly white, or the fact that she was four inches shorter than even Boober.

It happened to be, at that moment, what Red was a breath away from poking before Boober gave her a silent glare of doom from across the room.

"What are those _things_ on her _legs_?" Wembley asked, the first to say out loud what they were all been thinking.

"I don't know, but they look like…" Gobo began.

"They look like the splint I had when I twisted my ankle, remember Mokey?" Red finished, eyeing the strangers small light blue legs where they lay oddly straight upon the bed she had slept in for the last hour.

"Well, in a way, but they _do_ go up pass the knee…" Mokey said, slipping a pair of earmuffs over the fraggles ears, that were already buried in a mess of forest green hair grown out to the tip of her muzzle, decorated in small segments with carved wooden beads.

"They look like they're made of leather and something hard and shiny, like that black box we found that time…What did Uncle Matt say the silly creatures called it? A Raid dee oh?" Gobo added, trying to be helpful.

Mokey sighed, putting another warm blanket on the bed and beganing to draw near to the strange leg things as if to untie them. " My it must have been so hard to travel with…"

"No one touch her anymore! Stop it!" Boober yelled all the way from his safe small adjoining cave on the other side of the room in a tone so high-strung it made everyone jump.

" Sheesh Boober, I don't _get_ you sometimes…" Red begin, thumping up to the little fraggles' perch.

" _First_ you _carry_ her all the way here and refuse to have us help you even with these heavy things…"

Red picked up a large traveling bag and let it fall back to the ground, it's contents making a weak whimpering sound.

"And _then_ you dig your way into a corner away from your sister and won't even let us do anything to _help_ when she's hurt…"

Boober turned away from Red silently on his rock, pressing his forehead against the opposite wall with a jerk.

"You're definitely winning a trophy in first class _weirdness_ today…"

Gobo looked lost in thought for a moment before rubbing a hand though the dark pink hair beneath his cap.

"Maybe we shouldn't be so hard on him Red. Maybe..well, family is…"

"Boomer?"

The whole group turned in unison at the sound of the weak voice, Boober promptly falling off of his rock.

"Who's Boomer?" Wembley asked.

"Shh!" Red hissed, as Mokey moved to prop up the pillow under their guests head.

"Boom, I made it finally…" The fraggle raised her head, unseen eyes behind her long green hair scanning the area around the bed as Boober gave her a long glance from afar before going back to his rock. "… the walkers made..frozen time…"

"Hello!" Red shouted at the dazed form who had just now noticed she was surrounded on all sides by a curious group of faces.

"Are you feeling any better?" Mokey asked.

"Oh, hello…a little bit I suppose." The nearly full strength voice that made that reply was worn and somehow heavy sounding, as though beaten down by years of little use.

Gobo leaned upon the bed-frame in his best gentlemanly fashion.

"Hi, I'm Gobo, and this is Red, Wembley and Mokey and well…"

Red had returned to eyeing the odd leg things as Wembley waved and Mokey bowed her head a little in hello.

"…If you're looking for Boober I don't know how to say this but…"

"He's dead?"

Bimsy finished flatly, her voice fading away to such a distant serious edge it nearly knocked Red falling backward where she stood.

"No, no! Your brother is only suddenly acting like a world class dung beetle…"

"Is he now?"

Boober seemed to feel his sister's invisible prodding gaze even though the bodies of his friends were masking his hiding spot from view, turning his head toward the wall once more.

"Oh boy, I can see this family reunion is going to be a barrel of laughs." Red said with a sigh.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, my name is Bimsy."

The fraggle began, bowing her head a bit and bringing it back up quickly in a movement that made bends on the ends on her hair bounce against her nose.

"I hope my condition did not give you any unnecessary stress."

Wembley had been standing all this time, his large youthful eyes, unlike Red's trying to look at everything but the newcomers legs..and failing horrorably.

Finally, he seemed unable to contain the bubbling questions of a diehard wembler anymore.

"Um, Miss. Bimsy what is your condis…? I mean why are…? Do you…?"

The question he was finally about to form all the way was softer than a breeze upon the fraggle pond.

"Does it _hurt_?"

"The silly creature diagnosis is called polio,"

Bimsy answered so matter of factly that it was a if she had just been asked about the weather.

"…and yes it does... At least, too much to deserve a _nice_ sounding name like that one…my kind calls it…"

She stopped short as she caught a sliver of the view of Boober sitting in his nock between the forms of the other fraggles.

"That is _our_ kind called it..nix."

In his makeshift hole, Boober shivered head to toe in a silent shutter, making the pebbles around his feet clatter a light refrain.


	5. Mocmoc

"Does that word really mean you can't run and play at _all_?"

Wembley asked with a sad downward turn of his nose.

"Wembley, don't you know _anything_? That's rude!"

Red spat, her frowning face an inch from his now cowering own where they had sat down at the bedside.

"But we _always_ run and play when a new fraggle comes…"He piped up with a meek cheerfulness.

"It sounds like a very fun tradition…" Bimsy said with a small smile.

"_Fun_? You are _Boober's_ sister right? " Red said, looking the fraggles long fuzzy fur over again from top to bottom with a suspicious glance.

"But I'm afraid I will have to pass." Bimsy finished, slipping off the earmuffs and top of the blanket, even though most of her hosts were starting to shiver.

"I thought so..." Red whispered mostly to herself as her boredom lead her toward Boober's hiding spot silently.

"Still, we wish we could give you a nicer welcome."

Mokey said, coming over to the bedside with Lanford's pot in tow.

The giant flytrap like plant sniffed the newcomer and growled softly, but allowed himself to be petted.

"Don't worry. You can be sure this is the warmest welcome I have received in years."

"Really? Were the others _cold_?" Wembley asked.

"Were the others…" Bimsy lifted her hand just as Lanford had a change of heart and tried to bite it, ending up chewing on thin air. "Oh, what a sweetheart you are, no not quite…"

Her gaze fell on the distant Boober, where Red now stood beside him, whispering unheard encouragement into his ear, his head still facing the opposite wall.

"He's _sulking_..Oh, look at his _tail_!.." Bimsy's tone turned upward in a fond melody close to a laugh. "Boomer always did have the most _expressive_ tail."

At that same moment Boober reached backward, pulling the end of his swaying tail toward his lap and out of the cave light's view.

"Really? Well you're welcome to have back _all_ of little 'Boomer"' back if you want,"

Red said, grunting as she lifted the whole form of Boober up in the air few inches and turned him, captured tail and all, against his will toward the open space of the cave, sitting him down again.

"We've had more than enough."

"Red!" Gobo gasped in shock.

"Well..we do _love_ him, but sometimes he can just be so…"

Red searched for words as Boober for the first time met his sisters unseen gaze with his own, let out a loud sound somewhere between a sniff and a yelp, and turned quickly toward the wall again.

"So…_that_!" Red finished, biting the edge of her muzzle.

"No, that's alright. I just came to keep a promise I made a long time ago…"

Bimsy began with a overblown dramatic heaviness to her voice.

"But if Boober doesn't _want_ to talk to me I suppose there is _nothing_ I can do but simply go back home."

"Still, I think it's only fair I thank you for looking after me…" Her eye-line turned slightly toward Boober's spot with a glint of mischiefness. "Mocmoc, shall we sing for them?"

"Mocmoc?" Boober asked, finally turning a bit to look at the scene behind him.

With a sleepy sound like the scratch of an untuned violin the contants of the traveling bag uncoiled itself, snaking it's way up the side of the bedframe.

Red let out a surpized scream, leaping up into a shocked looking Gobo's arms.

The creatures long body was twice the length of a large fraggle while being only the width of a particularly fat radish, it's legless form covered from head to end with thick fuzzy fur in horizontal blue and white rings.

The violin like sound came again, this time low and mellow, as it went to rest it's eyeless head in the blue fraggles lap, the loose hole lined silver collar around it's neck catching the light.

"Good boy!" Bimsy said, turning her head in Boober's direction.

The beaming smile the little green fraggle had at the sight of the worm was cut short with all the self control he seemed able to muster up as he turned toward the wall again.

Mocmoc sniffed the air, a long blue tongue suddenly hanging out of its' hidden jaws lined with four sets of teeth as it caught a scent and jerked its head toward Boober's spot with a happy screech before being reined in by his mistress.

"No, Mocmoc, no. Boober doesn't _want_ to see us…"

The worm let out an unhappy high long tone that made everyone around it but the two siblings hold their ears before it shank into the covers.

"Oh the poor thing.." Mokey interjected, petting the nearest length of its bushy coat.

Meanwhile, it was taking all of Red's self control to not scream again where she still up in Gobo's arms, nearly strangling him in a silent attempt to climb onto his head.

"Sc..screaming..i..ic.._ice_…worm!" She managed at last to get the words out before Gobo set her trembling body down gently with a fed up sigh.

"Red, this is silly, it's only a little one, a baby!" Gobo said with a reasonable nod, reaching out a hand to pat it as Red zipped behind him. "Why, I bet it's not even a hundred years old yet."

"I don't care if it's still in its' _egg_ Gobo! Some people are afraid of bugs, and mice and creepy crawlys..Well, mine is ice worms..Everyone knows they _eat_ fraggles and use our bones as toothpicks!"

"Aw, _I'm_ not afraid, see Red?" Wembley said with a helpful grin, lining up his head to the puzzled looking monster's jaws "Its' mouth is too tiny to _swallow_ us yet.."

"There's no need to be afraid, Mocmoc is a domesticated _vegan_ ice worm." Bimsy said with a smile, rubbing behind one of the two long white feelers on his head and sending him into a low deep scratching purr again.

"Sure..that's what _Mokey_ said about her pet plant Lanford; but that never stops _him_ from trying to chew on me every chance he gets like I'm dipped in radish gravy…" Red said, sticking out her tongue in the worms' line of sight from beyond the edge of her living orange shield.

Mocmoc hissed, causing everyone to cover their ears again and Red to dive to hide her face in Gobo's fur.

"Well, I think he's very _cute_…" Mokey added, her cheerful tone smoothing over the scene. "All he needs is a little understanding…"

In the background Boober had returned to smiling wishfully at the little worm to, much to Red's frustration and Bimsy's amusement.

"Yes, I guess it is _just_ you and I after all, Mocmoc…" Bimsy said sadly as the worm seemed to have heard some sort of unspoken que, slipping the length of half of the silver collar infront of it's mouth and beginning to play.

"Hey, a harmonica collar, neato!" Wembley exclaimed softly as a hush fell over the room.

The low notes were soon joined by their visitors worn alto, its' heavy edge making the song even slower and more forlorn.

**Talkin' to myself and feelin' old...**

**Sometimes I'd like to quit,**

Bimsy threw off her covers, scooting with a slow determaned energy to the end of the bed.

**Nothing ever seems to fit...**

**Hangin' around...**

The little blue fraggle eyed her legs thoughtfully from under her bead ended mop of forest green hair. In the background Boober could be seen slowly turning toward the song.

**Nothing to do but frown...**

**Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.**

Bimsy caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and turned the opposite direction, to where Gobo, Mokey, Red, and Wembley most of all were gathering around to listen intently.

**What I've got they used to call the blues**

She got to her feet slowly with a painfull wince, avoiding the groups' silent offer to help as she gathered her crutches.

**Nothin' is really wrong;**

**Feelin' like I don't belong.**

Bimsy crossed the room, coming to a small stalagmite at its' center and letting go of her left crutch to spin around it with an odd dance like movement.

**Walkin' around...**

**Some kind of lonely clown...**

**Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down...**

The spin ended with a few unsteady steps to recover her fallen crutch from the hands of a very worried looking Wembley as she flooped down in a nearby chair, exhausted.

In the background Boober reached out with a hand at a distance.

**Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you...**

Bimsy smiled warmly at Mocmoc as he came to rest his panting mouth upon her lap, petting his feelers.

**Nice to know somebody loves me.**

Mocmoc licked her face as the tell tale bright red tail tuff of a steadly creeping Boober made quick progress across the stone covered floor in back of the group.

**Funny, but it seems that it's the only thing to do...**

Bimsy's eyes darted to the side, unseen by her brother, with a wide grin still pretending not to notice him.

Red bit down on her lip as the crawling Boober began to scurry by, giving his passing tail a sharp pitch. The little green fraggle screamed in pain, bolting upright and rubbing his tail before aiming a long forlorn stare at the back of his sister's head.

_**Run and find the one who loves me…**_

Bimsy hopped straight up in surprise as a inkspot suddenly popped into veiw behind her ear with a saxophone, making Gobo laugh.

"You have spontaneous _saxophone_ here?"

"Sure, doesn't everybody?" Gobo repied with a chuckle.

"My gosh no! Why, why, that is just _classy_! The most sophisticated _we_ ever get is spontaneous untuned _player_ piano…"

The crowd of fraggles groaned in sympathy as the song picked up again. This time backed with nearly a dozen other fraggles that had been slowly creeping in, drawn to the sound of unfamiliar music.

**What I feel has come and gone before.**

Boober edged around to the front of the gathering, wringing his hat in his hands as the crowd parted to let him walk though. Bimsy finally looked him in the eye and Boober's lip trembled as he raced forward to hug her around the middle.

_**No need to talk it out...**_

_**We know what it's all about**_

Boober nodded in agreement as Bimsy gave him a serious look, the rest of the fraggle fives friends and aquances sitting down into their listening circle as they sang back up.

**Hangin' around**

**Nothing to do but frown**

**Rainy Days and Mondays always get… me... down....**

Bimsy slowly and carefully lifted up Boober's hair kissing him on the forehead as she exposed his hight set pure black eyes to the light, glossy with tears.

"Have you been keeping your eyes clean and hydrated Boom?"

"Yes Bims." Boober replied in a small voice his friends had not heard in many years.

"That's my hygienic boy…" She whispered, haling up the half empty traveling bag as Mocmoc let out a sharp deafening sound again, taking a flying leap onto Boober and knocking him down in an onslaught of licking.

"See? Just a bit of understanding." Mokey repeated with a wise nod and a laugh at the state of Boober and the worm .

Red made a face as Boober's laughing one came up for a moment of air before being knocked down again.

"What is it with you two and _monsters_ with more teeth than _brains_ anyway?" She nudged the furry ball that was a fraggle and his pet, taking a lightning fast step to zip behind Gobo again, wrinkling her nose.

"And you _especially_ Boober, you're, you're afaid of gray pocket _lint_ for goodness sake! How can _you_..?"

"Aw, Red, it's only _Mocmoc_..yes it is!" He rubbed the creatures feelers with a rough tussle. "I've had him since I was a baby..watch!"

All the assembled fraggles watched the odd sight of a happy Boober, as he climbed to stand on a chair, holding a radish cracker up just beyond the worms' reached.

"Roll over!"

The worm rolled in place, making his ringed coat spin.

"Sit up!"

Mocmoc, rased up half of his snake like body off the ground, weaving slightly from side to side under the out of reach treat.

"Play live!"

Even Red's mouth was curled in an impressed "oo" as the little ice worm broke out in what looked strangely like a legless form of spinning polka dance.

" Good Mocy! Here you go boy!" Boober said with a smile, tossing the cracker into the creatures tiny but deadly looking mouth as everyone clapped.


	6. Story

The playful performance of a fraggle and his worm came to an end in uneasy silence as Bimsy turned to see a group of fifteen or so fraggles all staring at her with intent, interested expressions. Large Marvin took a crunching bite of radish cracker where he sat in the front row of the group, his small beady eyes bright over his three chins.

"I'm grateful of course... but...why are you all looking at me that way?" Bimsy edged away with a nervous scoot, making Boober, now sitting beside her, fall over, still engrossed in petting his fuzzy long lost friend.

"Oh, we thought that song was a lead-in for a _story_." Red said helpfully.

"It did _sound_ like it, didn't it? A good _long_ one to..." Mokey added, as the crowd agreed.

"Would you settle for a bad short one?" Bimsy asked, grabbing for her traveling bag again.

Wembley started to laugh and then stopped himself to look at the light blue visitors too serious to be joking expression.

"Well..well..fraggles love stories, right Gobo?"

Gobo nodded.

"All shorts and sizes to... Besides, it's a whole hour until the festival starts."

Boober gulped looking uneasy as his sister took her time unbuttoning a large dirty satchel, a clean handkerchief shielding her hand from actually touching its surface.

"Couldn't we just have a nice quiet time and watch the dust settle together Bims?"

" That is a very nice sport but...I'll be very honest Boom..this visit wasn't just to remain faithful to my promise..."

"I was afraid of that." Boober gulped again, bracing himself.

"I came to give you..this."

Bimsy reached into the bag with a fresh cloth, pulling from its depths a think book. The cover was bound in in panels of thin cherrywood, worn glossy by countless years of wear.

It had no title anywhere, but the gold edged pages and roughly fashioned buckle closer at its side marked it as something of great importance. After all, very few fraggles had the attention span to fashion metal.

"Boober, are you okay?" Wembley asked softly.

The little fraggles face was frozen as if someone had just stomped all over his cleanest laundry with muddy feet, as his voice barely worked its way into the room.

"The Book of the Venerated Cough..._No_...does this mean?"

Bimsy lifted up one of her legs very slowly and proudly as she spoke.

" Persnickety's last inventions were these braces..."

She slid the heavy book over to Boober's lap, where his shaking hands hovered above it like uncertain butterflies.

"You're the oldest male now." She finished simply, kissing him on the brow.

"But..but..Bimsy..the..the..responsibly..I..couldn 't be...if I have this who has..."

Boober fished for words as he finally touched the book, gripping it as if a afraid it would fall and scatter to the wind.

"You _are_..and I _do_." She said, sliding another thick book from the pack.

"Just what we need, more books." Red mumbled to herself.

"The Book of the Humble Sneeze!"Boober exclaimed, looking back and forth between the two.

The new book was the firsts' twin in all ways but its green cover, a dyed matting of dried grass over white cloth. The grass was rotted away here and there, revealing patches of the fabric, long since browned.

Boober looked up from the 2nd book again, fixing his sister with a blank look...or at least, what everyone watching _thought_ was a blank look.

"You're..the oldest girl...?" He laughed cheerfully. "You're...you're..playing a _joke_ right? It can't be as bad as all that..."

Boober's flat energy was squashed even flatter by the sound of swaying wooden hair beads clicking together.

"All this...and _more_..it's worst.._pages_..worst." She spoke softly, opening the book, to flip though the pages.

Gobo, Red, Wembley and Mokey along with a handful of others gathered near, but where disappointed to find pages of handwritten list like words in a strange foreign language before Boober closed the cover with a firm slam.

"What are those..?" Gobo began, but Bimsy finished just as quickly.

"Oh, we are being rude..maybe we should tell them..."

She reached to lift Boober's chin up from where he had gone back to contemplating the book before him.

"The story must be told...Do you wish to endure the telling of your most sorrowful tale?"

Boober sighed.

"If...I really have to... For the honor of being proven worthy of the title Bookkeeper without tears..I accept the telling..Weeba weeba..."

He sat the book down on the center of the bed a safe distance away as if it suddenly had an invisible shield around it.

"...woppa woppa.." He continued, lifting a happily panting Mocmoc onto the bed as well and cuddling him like a bedraggled teddy bear.

"...garpox gumbidge.... whoo..pee."

Boober's nose finished flatly in a very strained voice from under the quilt tent where it was now barricaded .

"Just tell me when it's over."

"Where did it happen?" Gobo asked, settling down nearby to polish the goo off of his hockey stick. "I mean I beg your pardon Miss Bimsy but I've traveled and explored lots of places, and well , they've never had fraggles that look as much like Boober as you do..."

Red leaded over toward Wembley with a weighted look and was rewarded with half of his peppermint twist handed over with a cheerful grin and a laugh.

"Our home back then was called Northern Rock..It was always cold and hardly ever saw the sun."

Under his blanket tent Boober bowed his head slowly as Red chewed loudly on her candy, watching him closely like a particularly intresting water beetle.

"Sounds like prime Boober growing country to me." She said softy, her words almost gentle.

Bimsy only smiled gazing off into memory as the group gathered closer, the unmistakable figure of Large Marvin making an almost graceful hop to sit next to their guest, while everyone was not paying attention.

"But oh, we loved it so...and even if we had our own name (which was quite unpronounceable) all others called us Those of The Snow...this time of year..was..our favorite.."


End file.
